


Legend Has It

by universecharm



Category: Hotel Transylvania (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 23:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16314737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universecharm/pseuds/universecharm
Summary: Ericka had a fairly standard childhood, as far as she's aware.





	Legend Has It

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, and you are 8 years old.

You’re sitting on the edge of the pools on one of the lower decks of your nautical home, watching the waves lap at the edge. Massive shapes coil and turn beneath the surface, capturing your attention fully and easily.

You scoot closer to the edge, the puddles of seawater near the edge seeping into your kneesocks, and you start to make out the shapes more clearly. Swirling tentacles, glowing eyes, sharp teeth, all a strange violet color that stands starkly against the deep blue of the ocean water.

You scoot closer to the edge. 

A mass breaches the surface, massive and technicolor. You gasp, almost silently, craning your neck to watch as the creature rises up to match your height, red eyes peering out from just above the water's surface.

You scoot closer to the edge. The waves reach just close enough to dampen the edges of your dress. You reach your hand out, to touch it, to get closer to whatever it might be, and just before your fingertips manage to graze the surface of it-

There's a hiss and a  _ pop _ and a strong arm grips around your waist, yanking you backwards much too harshly for your liking, knocking the air out of your lungs and making you struggle to get  _ closer, _ but then the creature lets out a horrible, pained whine and dips back below the surface in a cloud of ink and smoke and darkness that leaves you with a strange tightening in your chest.

Sound comes back to your mind little by little and his voice is in your ear and he says, “Ericka! Are you hurt? Did that  _ monster _ try to attack you?”

Grandpapa’s hands are on your cheeks and he's shaking you, just a little too roughly for your liking, and you pry them off of you, scooting away from him. “I’m  _ fine _ .”

“Then you’re lucky,” he hissed, pausing to wheeze into his elbow, coughs wracking his frame. “Those monsters aren’t like us, they aren’t anything like you or me! They only want to hurt you, do you understand?”

You grumble something under your breath and he grips your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. “ _ Do you understand me, Ericka? _ ”

You nod as best you can, looking down at the ground. He relaxes his grip on your face and tilts his head down, pushing your foreheads together. He smells like whiskey and stale cigar smoke. You try not to make a face. 

“I can’t lose you like I lost your mother…”

You feel your throat tighten, biting down hard on your bottom lip as you throw your arms around his shoulders, a wordless apology for a wordless crime as sobs shook you to your core.

* * *

 

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, and you are 11 years old. Your great grandfather has agreed to take you ashore with him for one of his missions for the first time and you are  _ beyond _ excited to see how it goes.

The two of you walk down the streets of some old town and he reminds you to keep your eyes away from other people and don't talk to strangers, just smile and keep your head high. 

You're supposed to be going after some kind of yeti today, so you’re dressed in thick clothes and big, fur lined boots in your staple white and gold colors. You have a smile on your face the entire way up the mountain.

When you see the beast looming on the horizon you feel your heart pick up. It’s sitting with its back against a tree stump and its head down, looking at something in its hands. You squint, and you see the gentle flash of a sharp blade between its fingers. You purse your lips and look up to your great grandfather, watching as he carefully aims his gun and motions for you to cover your ears.

You do so, but you’re still met with a startlingly loud noise. Your heart leaps and you grip your sleeves, barely processing as he runs over to where he fired to find the Yeti’s body slumped with blood dripping down. You avert your eyes to look at its hands, where the knife was. 

In its right hand there was a knife, yes. But…

In its left hand there was a small carving into a chunk of wood, what looked like three yetis standing together. You feel like you may cry.

Abraham picks up the corpse and slings it over his shoulders, blood dripping down its arm as the small sculpture falls from its grip. You pick it up and pocket it. You aren’t sure why.

You don’t go on any more hunting trips with your great grandfather after that.

* * *

 

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, and you are 16 years old. You have never been to school, and you have never spoken to anyone other than the employees on your ship, and your great grandfather, who often doesn’t have much to say these days. You hope he fixes up the machine he's building to make himself able to do things again soon.

You do not have friends, but you have movies. Your favorite is  _ Pretty in Pink, _ and you often like to watch the movie with your eyes closed so you can pretend that you’re Molly Ringwald and that you are living out the events of the movie.

You pick up sewing and start to make your own clothes. No more skirts, just pants with loose bell-bottoms that make you feel like a mermaid. You like mermaids, they don’t count as monsters. They’re graceful and elegant and dangerous, just like you.

You look in the mirror of your bathroom and twist the scissors over and over in your palm, feeling the cold metal against your skin. You look up at the long, curling locks of hair framing your face like icy gold. You grit your teeth and hold a fistful of hair out away from your head, snipping it off quickly and with grace. You continue around the rest of your head, until you no longer feel the tethering weight of your hair keeping you down to earth. You feel remarkably lighter, remarkably more free.

You sweep up the hair and change clothes, refusing to look in the mirror even though your heart is racing. You think about Molly Ringwald and how pretty she is, and how even if you cut and dye your hair you won’t ever get off this ship and live life the way she does. You won’t be swept away like Buttercup in the Princess Bride.

This isn’t a fairytale and you aren’t a princess.

* * *

 

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, you are 26 years old, and you have named your very own ship after the only thing that you are able to rely on as a pillar of your identity.

_ Legacy. _

* * *

 

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, you are 33 years old, and you are not sure why you have found yourself obsessed with Dracula. 

Being around him makes you dizzy and sick. Your skin crawls and your head spins and you don’t know why. You just know you want it to stop,  _ now _ , before you go insane.

So you employ the only method you were ever taught, and you try to kill him the way your great grandpa taught you.

Needless to say, it doesn’t go as planned.

* * *

 

Your name is Ericka Van Helsing, and you are 35 years old, and the ring on your finger is almost as comfortable as the cool body wrapped snugly in your arms. Your hair is still short, but your fiance says he loves your hair no matter how much or little of it there is. You pull him closer, noting the ever so faint heartbeat in his chest and the sleepy smile on his face. You feel like a princess. You feel like you’ve gotten everything you wanted, honestly! This all feels like a big win for you. 

He actually does sleep in a coffin, as it turns out, which isn’t all that bad! It feels secure, knowing he's right there, and that he loves you enough to share such a close space with you for so long every day. 

He  _ loves _ you, which is a thought you still have to process sometimes. But it’s a good thought. He keeps you warm during the day, while you both sleep off the sunshine.


End file.
